What's in a Name?
by Jaded Girl 83
Summary: Luke ponders the monikers he has acquired over the years...


Star Wars does not belong to me... even the so-called "Legends" stuff that CLEARLY neither Disney nor Lucasfilm give a mynock's butt about.

NO I WILL NOT LET IT GO! I PLAN TO STAY ANGRY **FOREVER!**

 **However** I would be remiss if I did not mention that this story was inspired by RedHandedJill44's lovely fanart "Mornin Farmboy"! Go find her stuff on DeviantArt because SHE IS AWESOME!

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 _Skywalker_

It's just his name, but no one uses it nowadays. Even his enemies don't use it to his face. Years ago, its use was common, particularly when being addressed by his superiors. Funny how that never happens anymore. People who once regularly decided his fate now use another form of address…

 _Master Skywalker_

Everyone calls him that now. _Everyone._ Acquaintance, stranger, enemy… and even, occasionally, friend. It's a title of respect, but more often than not it means "you make me uncomfortable." Except the younglings. The little ones at the Jedi Academy use it artlessly, with great excitement and ease, as if "Master" was simply his given name. He doesn't mind the title so much, then.

 _Uncle Luke_

He feels a smile creep across his face. Another title he doesn't mind. Its use has changed over the years as his niece and nephews grow and mature. The words once spoken with familiar excitement and blind adoration now resonate with questions to answer, confusion to clear up, and advice petitioned which he freely gives. Every day the name holds more responsibility, but it is a responsibility that he is happy, even eager, to shoulder.

 _Luke_

It's funny. A name once used without thought is now a privilege. One must now _earn_ the right to call him by his given name, a right only achieved through history, experience and trials. It makes his name more precious to hear… and more rare. He feels grateful, appreciative, whenever it is used, but also wistful. That simple name, the name of his boyhood, now holds more than it ever used to.

 _Little Brother_

He gives a gentle shake of his head. This name he's both fond and not so fond of. It's a name that was given to him by a person indescribably precious to him. His twin. His only blood relation. But whenever she actually uses the words, he often has to grasp for more patience. But no matter how annoyed he might feel when she says it, she always says it in tones of love and concern. That was well worth a little patience.

 _Kid_

A wide grin splits his face from ear to ear. One of his favorites. Let all the galaxy treat him with respect and deference- to Han, he would always be the panicky teenager from Tattooine. Despite Luke's history, reputation and power, Han stubbornly refuses to give up the nickname… and Luke just as stubbornly refuses to stop answering to it. They wouldn't have it any other way. Over the years, the tone of address has shifted and morphed; at first was smug and superior, then affectionate, then just a bit ironic. Like a big brother who insists on ruffling your hair well into adulthood. For a few years, the tone had held undertones of doubt and uncertainty, as if Han hadn't been sure that the "kid" still existed. But that dark moment had passed, thanks in great part to the one _other_ person in the galaxy who refused to take him too seriously…

"Morning, Farmboy."

Luke beams contentedly at the sound of his favorite nickname, shifting his position to give her enough room to sit beside him and gratefully accepting the steaming mug she offers. The gratitude becomes somewhat dampened when he discovers that the cup holds caf rather than hot chocolate.

Mara senses his thought immediately. "I don't think so. That's a _relaxing_ drink. We've got a packed schedule today and I need you _awake_."

"Yes ma'am," he murmurs with exaggerated meekness, spurring her to elbow him not-so-gently in the ribs. He smiles behind the mug. Teasing moments aside, he doesn't really have a nickname for her. She doesn't need one. Woman, killer, assassin, smuggler, warrior, friend, ally, Jedi, lover, wife… Mara's name held her whole self. Whenever he hears "Jade" or "Captain Jade," the words sound inexpressibly foreign. He can't be the only one who thinks so, because almost everyone uses her given name. It is… _enough_.

Mara gives his thigh two swift, hard pats as she rises to her feet. "Come on. Up and let 'em at us."

Luke smiles once more. It's certainly enough for him.


End file.
